


Coffee

by Sheffield



Series: Dark!Gregor [2]
Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: AU, Dark!Gregor, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:58:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheffield/pseuds/Sheffield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivan is woken from sleep and requested and required to attend at the residence without benefit of coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee

An armsman in the Vorbarra uniform isn’t someone to ignore, even if he’s hammering on your door at o-dark thirty and you only took the Vorlightly girl (what was her name again?) home two hours ago. Ivan sat in the back of the Imperial car and ran his hand ruefully over his five o’clock shadow (and what was the emergency that meant he didn’t have time to depilate for goodness’ sake! Miles wasn’t even on planet!)

“This way...”

Ivan had seen this one a couple of times at the Residence. Some greekie name, he vaguely remembered. A relatively new one, after that chap had been killed in that stupid brawl in the rose garden between... whatsisname and whosit. He was too tired for this. And he’d kill for a coffee.

No such luck. Gregor was in undress greens, in one of his little side offices, and he was walking as soon as Ivan came into the room and Ivan, perforce, walked with him. Just the three of them, then: Gregor, Ivan and the greekie armsman. And no sign of any coffee. Sigh.

“What’s Miles done now?” he said. Gregor turned his head and gave him a... weird, frankly.... weird sort of sideways grin.  
“Not Miles. No,” he said, holding up an Imperial hand, “Nor your mother, nor Simon. I want you to do something for me, Ivan, that’s all. Here.”

OK, Gregor’s dressing room. That was... weird. Ivan had twice demonstrated to the Young Emperor that there were no monsters under his bed and - being five years younger - Gregor had returned the favour three times, including the time with the Vorkalloner cousin actually hiding under the bed and wasn’t THAT a memory you want at o-dark-thirty in the morning with no coffee?

“In here,” Gregor said, “please.” An escape hatch? Panic room? Ivan automatically obeyed his Emperor’s wave of the hand and stepped inside, only registering the wrongwrongwrong!!!!!! in Gregor’s voice as the armsman pushed the door shut behind him.

“Gregor?” Ivan said softly.

Claustrophobia was a hobby he couldn’t afford. Darkness was... well, it wasn’t helpful. Ivan felt around the room cautiously, establishing that, yes, it was sealed and, yes, it really was only four by four by not-quite-tall-enough. No, he didn’t have his com link or any weapons on him. And, no, he really wasn’t dreaming this and he really didn’t have any coffee.

There was a small noise and a circle of light appeared at not-quite-eye level. Ivan peered out, and saw another eye peering back. He stepped back as if stung, and saw two.. three... four more circles of light appear. Ah. Air holes. He wasn’t going to suffocate after all, see.

“Ivan,” Gregor’s voice said quietly, “We... I... request and require you not to make any noise. Please.”  
“Sure,” Ivan said amiably. Maybe Gregor had gone crazy, but in that case Tante Cordelia would straighten his head out. And it wasn’t as if he could just... disappear. Maybe it was a drill? An experiment? Miles was probably at the back of it somewhere anyway.  
“Ivan, I just...”

Gregor was quiet.

“I just... need to see.”  
“See what?”

There was a long silence.

“What it could be like.”

Ivan peered through one of the air holes and saw Gregor’s back, retreating, along with the greekie armsman (and what WAS the man’s name?)

And then Gregor got to the dressing room door, looked back, and... turned out the light.


End file.
